“Show your dad your facial hair,” I said.

Boo shows him the peach fuzz.

“Do you have any chest hair? Come here and let me inspect,” I said.

Boo turns to walk toward me then says, “Wait! Let me go get my magnifying glass!”

Boo – age 8

This morning Boo asked me if I’d rather know how I’m going to die or when I’m going to die. I told him I’d probably rather not know. He proceeded to tell me he thinks he’d like to know when so he could accomplish his life goals.

He’s 8, y’all.

Later he ran out of the bathroom to show me he’s growing facial hair.

Boo: After the Civil War they made candy called Littmus Lozenges. I ate one yesterday.

Me: Really? What did it taste like?

Boo: Sorrow.

Boo: “It’s rude to interrupt someone.”

Mom: “You do it all the time!”

Boo: “It’s okay ’cause I’m adorable.”

Reason #432 Boo can’t eat dinner:

The celery is too spicy. 

Boo whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

“Mom, guess what. I spank myself.”

“At this point, son, you’ll be wearing some kind of chastity belt.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m going to put it there.”
“Mom, if you put it my closet I’m just going to leave it there.”

We were watching Once Upon a Time when Boo said, “Captain Hook was not this handsome in the movie. No, really. He looked constipated!”

“Constipated?”

“Yeah! His hat did not go with his coat and his boots didn’t go with his hat. And the feathers were the wrong season! If he had peacock feathers, that would work.”

“Son, that’s not constipated.”

“Mom, my left hammer toe looks like gold.”
“Son, you don’t have a hammer toe.”
“Yes I do. My left big toe. It’s a hammer toe if you can hammer with it.”
*sigh*